Fast Forward
by KeitorinNara
Summary: It's been awhile since Gwen's death, and yet Peter still hasn't put on the suit. Will everything change when a stranger calls?
1. Chapter 1

_The loss of a loved one just makes you feel, I dunno, numb I guess. That's the best way to describe it. And I've lost so many by now. Mom, Dad, Uncle Ben…and Gwen. That's the one that really gets to me because it's completely my fault. I let her go into the middle of the fight against Electro. I could have stopped her, webbed her somewhere safe, but I let her continue on. And then Harry showed up…Harry, who was there all those years ago to help me through my parents' death, and I couldn't just give him my blood like he wanted. If I had, would she still be alive? Would I be able to look at the photo of her on my desk and not feel agonizing pain? Not feel the void inside me that left with her? Would I be able to be anywhere near her family if everything had been different? That's what plagues my mind every day from the minute I wake up until my head hits the pillow at night. I can't focus. I can't make myself eat, and I sure as hell don't sleep. Not as much as I know I need to. And I'm sure that's what Aunt May is worrying about. I mean, it's not hard to miss. I know I look like hell. I can tell that I've lost weight. My "spider-sense" hasn't been really normal since that night. And it's that that keeps me from putting on the suit. I just don't function like I use to. I…I guess I'm afraid that another Gwen will happen. That it could be Aunt May next time limp in my arms. I don't know if I'll ever be able to get back out there. I guess we'll just have to see._

With a sigh Peter lightly closed the journal, placing it under the bed. He looked around his room, eyes catching the few items adorning the walls. They fell on a photo of Gwen, her hair flying around her head as she tried to keep her balance on a short wall. He remembered that day, the cold biting at his skin, and the laughter that filled the air as she flung her arms out for him to catch her. The way her eyes seemed to glow as she told him that he just might be the one, that she could imagine a life with him. His hand reached out to brush the photograph, his cheeks wet with silent tears that he was unaware of creating. He was jerked out of moment by the sound of a horn honking outside. Looking at the time he gathered his bag and headed downstairs, stopping for a moment in the kitchen to try and find some kind of food that wouldn't come back up later. Not finding anything satisfying he turned around, determined to make it out of the door before his aunt noticed his absence.

"Hold it, young man. Where are you going?" He cringed, slowly spinning around to look his disgruntled aunt in the face. It was then that he really took the chance to observe. She looked so run-down. She didn't stand as straight as she used to, and her hands shook slightly as she pushed back a stray piece of hair on her forehead. Guilt struck a cold blow as he realized that he was most likely the reason for this change.

"I'm just going out with a few friends. Nothing to worry about." He laughed softly, trying to ease her into a somewhat better mood. Starting forward, he laid a gentle kiss on her forehead before moving past her to the door.

"You're going to her grave again aren't you." He cringed at the statement, his hands curling into fists at his sides. His shoulders tense, he gave a slight inclination of the head, his eyes never leaving the grain of the door. There was a tense silence before she continued, "Just please be home by dinnertime. I'm making that pasta dish that you love so much." He sighed, resting his head against the cold wood. "I'll do my best, Aunt May."

Before she could reply he was out the door, quickly surrounded by the noises of New York. He shoved his way through the crowds barely paying attention to the hundreds of faces that passed while his feet carried him through the route that he now knew by heart.

xXx

The graveyard was the same as it has always been, with the occupants silent and unyielding and the headstones a cold reminder of everyone's future. The ground was worn down along the path to Gwen's grave, and Peter's feet fell into the footprints that were seemingly engrained into the earth. His momentum stopped as he slowly realized that Gwen's grave wasn't unoccupied. A man stood there, his stature tall in a rich man's suit, a pair of sunglasses perched on his familiar face. Dread flew through him as he realized that everything was about to change as soon as two words came out of the man's mouth.

"Hello, Spider-Man."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer****: Sadly I cannot take credit in being the genius that created these characters. This is purely created for my amusement. And if others find it entertaining, then hell I must be doing alright.**

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"I…I don't know what you're talking about. There's definitely no Spider-Man here. I mean, no one has seen him in months. The Bugle hasn't been able to harass him since I haven't been able to get them any new pictures since, you know, he's not been around lately. Not to mention-" He was broken off by a sharp bark that quickly escalated into a deep laughter.

"Geez, kid. I don't see how you've done it."

"Done what?"

"Kept your secret for so long. One mention of it and your mouth took flight. I'm surprised that you aren't up in the clouds by now." The man slowly calmed himself, finally pulling a straight face as he ran a hand through his hair. The other one extended towards Peter. "The name's Tony Stark."

Peter eyed it before grasping it for a quick shake. "Yeah, I know who you are. The only question I have is what are you doing here?"

Tony sighed and glanced around the cemetery. "Look kid, let's not talk here. My car's this way, c'mon." He turned around, his pace brisk as he approached the car in the short distance.

Peter hesitated. Why would _Tony Freaking Stark_ of all people want to talk to him? He was just a kid with webs. How does that compare to Mean 'n Green, Iron Man, Captain Tightpants, and Hawk…something? And besides, they already have a spider on the team. She may not shoot webs, but she could kick his ass ten times from Sunday. He can barely keep people alive, and half the time he doesn't even do that right.

He was snatched from his train of thought by the man of the hour. "Are ya coming, kid? The car's waiting. I may be a billionaire but that doesn't mean I like paying for wasted gas."

"Yeah, I guess I am. But I have to be home at a decent time. I don't want my aunt to worry."

"No problem, kid. This won't take long."

"Okay, that has to change. If I'm going to do this then you have to call me by my name. It's Peter, in case you were wondering."

"You've got spunk, Peter. I like it."

Before Peter could respond, Tony turned and went to his car, throwing open the passenger door before climbing into his own. Peter sent one last glance towards the headstone before following the older man's path. Closing the car door he observed the innards of the car. It was nice. Definitely cost more than his future college tuition. It really wasn't that surprising though considering his company. Glancing over he took in the driver's appearance. Expensive glasses, watch, suit. His underwear could have been made with solid gold for all he knew.

Embarrassment swam through him as Stark's gaze caught his own. He quickly turned his attention to the scenery. A large building filled his view, the sides shining as the sun reflected off the many windows. Stark's name adorned one side, the letters probably as big if not bigger than his ego. As they pulled into the large garage underneath the building they were met by a man with ruby shades. He looked like a Cap wannabe with his combed hair and pressed button-down shirt.

"Ah. Looks like they've come earlier than I expected! You're in for a large welcoming, Peter."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I still can't believe how many reviews, favorites, alerts, and views this story has gotten so far! Thank you to everyone who is doing so! I wanted to apologize for how short the chapters are. Since it's the end of my senior year in high school I'm extremely busy prepping for college, running the sound for our musical, and finishing whatever homework I have left. I promise that as soon as I graduate the chapters will start getting longer. Anyways, once again I am disclaiming any possession of the characters in this story. The only things I own are my thoughts and ideas for this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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Peter stiffened as his eyes took in the man waiting for them. It wasn't difficult to figure out who he was; the glasses and X-embroidered jacket were a dead giveaway. What wasn't so clear was the reason for Xavier's X-Men being here. Surely they didn't know about him as well? That thought sent a chill through his veins. Just how many more people know who he really is? How pathetic was he for not being able to keep one secret safe? This wasn't like his aunt discovering a hidden porn stash; it was much bigger than that. He decided to shelve that bit of thought for later as he stepped out of the car. They were stopped in front of the door by the X-Man, his hand out and his mouth forming a welcoming smile as he focused his glasses, Peter figured that it couldn't be a gaze with the man's eyes hidden, towards Peter's face.

"Hello, my name is Scott – "

Before he could say anything else Stark cut in, "Or you can just call him Cyclops. Cyke if you want to be informal. Personally I think he could've chosen a better hero name. Laser Eyes would've been better. Or maybe Red Beam. That's kind of catchy."

Scott snorted. "Look who's talking. Who names themselves Iron Man? Especially when the suit he wears isn't even made out of that alloy."

"Hey! I didn't choose the name. It was thrown out there by the public and just stuck. At least 'Iron Man' strikes fear in the hearts of my enemies. 'Cyclops' just makes me think of those crappy animations in the Percy Jackson movies. That's not very impressive."

Peter could hear Scott's retort, but his brain didn't process the words. All he could think about was what really was behind those ruby shades. Could he have only one eye? It wouldn't really be surprising, considering all of the other weird stuff he's encountered as Spider-Man. He interrupted the men's banter, directing his question towards Scott. "Do you only have one eye?" As he asked, all he could picture was a young Nick Fury with his one eye shooting lasers at everyone who managed to irritate him.

Scott sighed. "No, I do not have one eye. I have two, fully-functioning, ones."

Peter shrugged. "Too bad. Could you imagine how cool that would be? Whenever the bad guy laughed at your name you could whip off those glasses, open that eye, and strike them down with one powerful blast. That would definitely leave an impression."

Tony laughed, clapping Peter on the back. "I think I'm gonna like you. Move over, Cyke. We don't want young Peter here thinking that you don't want him in my home."

Scott scowled, stepping to the side as Stark rushed past him. Peter could've sworn that he heard him mutter "rich bitch", but it could have been something like "glitch unhitch". He doubted it though. He decided to go with the first one. He could easily guess that spending too much time with the infamous Tony Stark could cause even the Pope to cuss.

As soon as his foot entered the doorway he was greeted by a pleasant "Welcome, Mr. Peter". The British tone seemingly came from thin air. Intrigued, Peter turned to face Tony. "You have an AI?"

Stark flashed one of his press grins that made women swoon. "Not only does he have humor, but a brain too! Yup! That's JARVIS. He runs the place. So if you ever need anything he's the man to ask." He paused, obviously pondering something. "You know, I could show ya how JARVIS works if you'd like."

Peter grinned, his eyes lighting up. "That would be awesome! I've tried before to create an AI, but there was always something off. Never could figure it out."

"Well we'll figure out what went wrong. It was probably something small. We could have JARVIS – "

He was cut off as a throat was cleared. Peter's attention was drawn to a wild-looking man. His hair was…interesting to say the least. There really was nothing he could compare it to. Peter's nose scrunched as he caught the strong scent of cigars wafting off of him. With his leather jacket, large belt buckle, worn jeans, and cowboy boots the guy looked like a truck driver.

"I hate to interrupt your bonding time, but the professor wants to see you guys."

Yup. Even his voice sounded like it belonged to a trucker. Peter glanced at Tony who nodded encouragement before following the gruff man into what seemed to be the living room. Taking a deep breath he began to follow, only one thought echoing in his mind: _Here we go_.


End file.
